


Ghost Rider: Santa Muerte

by miranda_gilastorm (m_gilastorm)



Series: Ghost Rider: Santa Muerte [2]
Category: Ghost Rider (Comics), Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Santa Muerte - Fandom
Genre: Asexual Character, Bisexual Female Character, F/F, F/M, Female Character of Color, Female Friendship, Female Ghost Rider OC, Female Protagonist, Gang Violence, M/M, NaNoWriMo, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), POV Original Character, POV Original Female Character, Santa Muerte, Vengeance Demon(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 16:44:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16496372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m_gilastorm/pseuds/miranda_gilastorm
Summary: The streets of East LA are quieter than usual, no one quite sure if the rumors are true about the Mexican deity come to life. All anyone knows for sure is deals keep going bad in El Sereno and gang members keep showing up dead or mumbling about Santa Muerte. To a little boy growing up on stories of Stark Tower in New York, she sounds like a hero, and to a runaway from Beverly Hills, it sounds like a safer place to crash than other alleys in LA.





	1. Chloe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ginnyhazard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ginnyhazard/gifts).



> So this is a long time coming.. I've had this sitting and promised I would post it for my one year anniversary of writing again. So here. For your reading enjoyment....

An orange sky overlooked a young blond as she wandered, hoping to come across a shelter, or at least a safe place to bunk, before it got too late. She neared a building that stood out on the East-Los-Angeles-warehouse-district street. It was too nice; part homey, part chic, like one of those of those lived-in businesses. A gorgeous black Fiat Spider was parked on the side, in what should have been the owner's spot. _How has that not been lifted?_

As she passed, the front door swung inward, and a man stumbled out, accompanied by a lovely, if under-dressed, woman. She waved suggestively and the girl understood exactly what kind of building it was. She decided to keep moving. This wasn't the area for a _gringa_ like her anyway. East LA wasn't always kind to runaways from Beverly Hills.

She kept pace down the street, past tall warehouses that appeared more empty than they likely were, with gravel crunching beneath her sandals. A warm wind blew, but the air smelled of dust and faintly like piss and body odor. It made her long for trips to Santa Monica with her parents and the fresh, salty breeze off the Pacific.

She was lost in memory, missing her family and her best friend - the only scholarship kid in her uppity private school - and nearly bowled over a young boy, who sat down on the cement too hard after his face had run right into her stride. The boy with dark skin and hair, started crying and muttering in Spanish. She was at a loss - she didn't speak Spanish, so she probably wouldn't be able to communicate with him. It was more distressing than it should have been.

"Hey," she started, trying to soothe him. "I'm sorry! Please don't cry..." Her voice trailed off. He sniffled and quieted, stopping his muttering.

"'S okay," he mumbled, and the girl heaved a sigh of relief. It'd been more than a week since she'd spoke to anyone. The little boy gazed at her with puffy eyes from crying, and she was staring at violet irises, practically glowing against the redness from his tears.

"What's your name?" she rested her hands on his shoulders, hoping to keep him calm.

He eyed her suspiciously, debating whether to answer or not. "Dante," he said.

She smiled. "Dante, I'm Chloe. Are you alright?" He nodded and she breathed a little easier. "Do you live around here? Are you lost?" The suspicion returned, but she tried to look as concerned as she could, well aware of her resting-bitch-face.

"I live a little ways back there," he pointed the way she had just come.

_Oh well_ , _the least I can do is walk him home after attempting to run him over._

"Alright," she stood, offering her hand, "I'll walk you home. It's almost dark anyway." He stood and dusted himself off briefly, not that it was effective, and hesitantly took her hand, taking the lead.

"What are you doing wandering the streets by yourself?" Chloe was attempting to make conversation, but she could still feel distrust radiating from Dante. "I'm looking for a shelter," she offered.

He stared at her, surprised. "There aren't any around here. The closest homeless shelter is in Cypress Park." He knew a lot for a kid, and she just felt dumb.

"Oh. Well I guess I'll just find somewhere to crash again." She shrugged, trying to hide her disappointment. Leave it to the rich white girl to be in the Spanish neighborhood looking for a homeless shelter. Espe would be laughing at her if she were here.

"You could crash with us, mamá always keeps the spare rooms made up in case people show up needing _ayuda_. The girls always make the best _comida_ when we have guests!" Dante was smiling and it seemed like his dislike of her had evaporated.

"Maybe!" was all she said. "But seriously, what were you doing on the street?"

The boy glared at her, deciding whether to share something else about himself. "I was hoping to see Santa Muerte!" He grinned, violet eyes shining.

Chloe tilted her head. "Like the saint? How were you going to do that? Prayer?" Chloe tried to keep her tone serious, but it was a little teasing. Dante could hear it and he frowned at her.

"No," he pulled his hand from hers, offended. "I was going to find a good hiding spot and wait for her to fight the bad guys again. She's been taking care of the gangs that keep bothering our neighborhood. She protects us here." He pointed and Chloe realized they were at the building from before, the one that looked too nice to be in East LA.

"Oh," she stopped at the foot of the steps, "so you live here." Dante turned his violet eyes to her, already halfway up the steps himself. His glare was flat - he was probably used to being judged by everyone for what his mother may or may not do. Chloe could hear her best friend's voice in the back of her head again and decided she didn't want to be one of the people judging this little boy because of where he lived or what his mother may or may not do. She met him halfway up the steps and he took her hand, leading her to a Santa Muerte shrine at the front of the building, where he knelt and crossed himself, in what Chloe judged to be the most adorable episode of piety she had ever seen. He stood again and went to the front door, where Chloe had seen the couple exit before, pushing it open with ease.

"¡Mamá! Encontré una chica que necesita ayuda..." Dante's voice trailed off as he walked in, looking around, only to realize there was no one to hear. "¿Mamá?" he called, a little louder. Chloe thought it looked surprisingly homey for a brothel.

"Dante!" A beautiful woman with her dark hair pulled up on her head in an attractive and messy bun came around the corner. Dark violet eyes told Chloe this was Dante's mother. She was tall, well muscled, and looked more like some kind of personal trainer than a prostitute. _Maybe I was wrong about what this place was_.

"Mijo, what's going on? Who have you brought?" Her accent was thick and unlike any Chloe had heard around LA. Dante grabbed Chloe by the hand and tugged her into a kitchen that was just as elegant as the sitting room they'd entered through. This place _definitely_ did not belong in this neighborhood. _How on earth has this whole building not been robbed blind?_

"Mamá, se llama Chloe y se necesita ayuda. Me dijé ella se puede..." his voice trailed off as his mother looked her over. Chloe was suddenly aware of her dirty appearance, but there wasn't any disdain as she eyed her, it was more like disinterested compassion.

"Of course she can stay," she said in her heavily-accented voice. She turned to her son and muttered a string of Spanish that made Dante duck his head, clearly shamed.

"Lo siento, mamá," he said, quietly. She raised a brow at him and he straightened, turning to Chloe. "Sorry, I wasn't trying to be rude." His mother nodded her approval, lips quirking in a small smile. She reached out to shake Chloe's hand, grasping the teen's firmly in her own. Chloe could feel rough callouses on the older woman's palm and fingers. Her week on the streets taught her what those were from - a gun, and holding it enough that it left its mark on your skin.

"Me llamo Catalina. It's nice to meet you, Chloe." Violet eyes met blue briefly before Catalina dropped her hand and turned, motioning for her to follow out of the kitchen and behind the carpeted stairs. Chloe hadn't noticed a hallway when she walked in. Perhaps that was intentional. Dante ran ahead of the two women, stopping at a door that had a giant Avengers' "A" on it, complete with all the heroes' weapons and tools and other symbols she figured fit the theme, but couldn't name.

"Es mío," he stated, gesturing proudly.

Chloe nodded, smiling at him. "I love your door! An Avengers fan?"

He grinned. "I like heroes!" He winked. Catalina caught it, but only glanced from one to the other briefly.

The rich carpet muffled their steps as they followed her. Dante trailed just behind Chloe, clearly excited to see which room his mother was going to lead them to. They stopped at a plain door, not far from where Dante's had been. Catalina levered the handle and swung the door inward, motioning gracefully for Chloe to enter. Mother and son followed after, Catalina hitting the dimmer switch on the wall, pushing it all the way up so that the lights were bright and warm. Warm was the word for the room.

The rest of the building that Chloe had seen so far was elegant. The room she was staying in was cozy and comforting, with a full bed, down comforter, and a love seat that would be perfect for curling up in.

"¿Te gusta?" Dante hopped up onto the bed and sunk a couple of millimeters into the fluffy comforter, hidden by the rich maroon color. Chloe laughed and sat next to him, sighing at the relief that washed over her.

"Yeah. It's really nice," she told him, still smiling at how hidden his small frame was in the fluff.

Catalina's face eased a bit from the neutral mask she'd worn since meeting Chloe. "Mijo, can you go tell the girls we'll have a guest por la cena? I'm sure they'll want to get started." Dante's eyes glittered at the prospect of food. He sat straight up and slid - or more like fell - off the bed, dashing out of the room, and they could hear his small footsteps running up the steps to the rooms above them.

"Lo siento, but I wanted to ask you some questions and it's probably easier if he's not in the room." Catalina's face went blank again and Chloe felt a bit nervous. She simply nodded. Catalina must have sensed her nerves because her expression softened. "Okay, let's start with something easy. What kind of help do you need?"

Chloe let herself breathe. She could answer that. "I ran away from home. I was looking for a shelter when I ran into your son," she paused, "I mean, literally. I knocked him over and felt bad, so I brought him home and he offered a place to stay."

Catalina nodded, still staring at her with soft compassion. "Can I ask why you ran away?" Chloe flinched. That was the question she didn't want to answer. Catalina saw her reaction. She put up a hand, not requiring her to speak yet. "Let me tell you about what we do here, before you trust me," the older woman gestured around at the room. Chloe let herself examine it, noticing a painting she was certain was of a village in Mexico. In fact, everything in the room had a distinctly Mexican feeling to it, from the Spanish books to the woven blanket tossed over the back of the love seat.

Catalina continued. "I came to this country, smuggled in like just another," she searched for the word, " _shipment_. I was pregnant, alone, scared, and had _nada_. I've worked hard for the last seven years to earn and protect what you see around you. Not so I can make money, so no one becomes like I was. I protect these girls here. And when there are people like me, who have nothing and nowhere to go, this is where they come. ¿ _Comprende_?"

Chloe wasn't sure she did, but she nodded. At the very least, it meant she was likely safe here. "My family is rich, like really rich. We live over in the Hills, and we always have these huge parties. Well, at the last party, there were these guys who were all tattooed and they looked super suspicious. Like, I know what gang-bangers look like, and these guys looked more dangerous," she noted a brief flare in Catalina's violet eyes, but it disappeared, so she continued. "I didn't know what they were doing at my house so I followed them to what turned out to be a meeting with my mom and they saw me. So I bolted. I went to my room, threw on my trashiest clothes, and just ran. So now I have nowhere to go and I don't really know what to do." She stared at the golden-brown carpet, swinging her feet.

Catalina moved to sit next to her on the bed, balancing her weight on the edge of the mattress. "You can stay as long as you need. You're safe here. The gangs don't dare mess with my house." She flashed a full smile, eyes almost glowing. "Do you want to try and contact your parents? Let them know you're okay?"

Chloe debated. She missed her family, but her mother was working with those men. The image of that meeting was burned into her mind. It would never go away. "I don't know. I don't know if it would be safe."

Catalina just nodded. She seemed to understand. "How about this? Give me your parents' address. You can write them a letter, and if you ever decide to move on or you want to contact them, I can send it."

Chloe nodded. "That sounds good." She smiled and Catalina reached out, patting her on the shoulder. The bed shifted as she stood, opening a door to reveal a sizable bathroom. Chloe stared at it like it was the most precious thing she'd ever seen. There were shampoos and all sorts of necessities.

Catalina left soundlessly and Chloe pushed herself off the bed and made her way to the bathroom to enjoy her shower. She never heard Catalina leave the clothes, but they were there on the bed when she opened the door. She'd been a little nervous about wearing a prostitute's clothes, but they were normal, if a little baggy - just jeans and a t-shirt. There were even clean underwear and a sports bra, and Chloe had to think that this was definitely a house full of women. She got changed and felt much better.

The door was locked as Chloe left the warm room. It sounded like they sheltered illegal immigrants here. That would explain why this hallway was hard to notice. You would have to know it was there. Chloe made her way out from behind the stairs and into the kitchen where several beautiful women were bustling about and working on something that smelled divine and made her mouth water.

Dante was sitting at the kitchen counter on a bar stool and noticed her before anyone else. "¡ _Hola_ , Chloe!" The women in the kitchen glanced at her, and she felt slightly self-conscious. Dante grabbed her hand and tugged her over to the stools at the counter and motioned for her to sit next to him.

Dante clambered back up into his bar stool, leaning close, and whispering conspiratorially. "So mamá says you don't want to go home. Does that mean you're going to stay?" His purple eyes shone with hope and Chloe smiled.

"Well I don't know what's going to happen, but I think I'll stay here where it's safe for at least a little while."

Dante grinned excitedly. "Then you can help me finally see Santa Muerte!"

She frowned at him, "I don't know what you mean. Isn't Santa Muerte just the statue on your altar? A saint you pray to?"

He rolled his eyes in that dramatic way only a child could. "No! She's real! Doesn't anyone watch the news?" He was still whispering, but there was intensity in his eyes. She realized he was completely serious.

Chloe sighed, relenting a little. "Don't you think chasing a superhero might be dangerous for a little kid?" she asked, trying not to sound condescending, not sure she succeeded. He puffed up, violet eyes flashing.

He struggled to keep his voice down. "Of course it's dangerous! But that's okay! Heroes aren't afraid!" He clenched a fist in front of his face, readying for a fight.

She shook her head in exasperation. _Catalina must have the patience of a saint_.

The heavily accented voice of Dante's mother came from behind them. "Afraid of what?" The two conspirators spun around to see the lovely woman, standing at the entrance of the kitchen, leaning against the wall near the stairs. Chloe wasn't brave enough to venture any answer at all. Dante stuttered, mumbling something no one could catch. Catalina raised her brow again, making that face that Chloe knew would get him to talk.

"Quiero..." he began before his mother cut him off.

"En inglés, Dante." She reminded him, nodding toward Chloe.

He sighed and started again. "I want to find Santa Muerte. I know she's real and that's why no one bothers us any more and I just want to see her beat up on the bad guys like a real-life superhero." His words came out in a jumble, and Chloe watched as Catalina's face became dangerously hard as she comprehended what her son was saying. When he glanced up at her, his eyes widened and Chloe could see him swallow nervously.

_Good_ , she thought, _I'm not the only one terrified of that stony face_.

When Catalina spoke, her voice was even and icy. "Santa Muerte is a vigilante who made a deal with the spirits, with a grudge against gangs. She's dangerous and does not hesitate to kill. You are not to go anywhere near her. She's not a hero like your comic book characters. She's just another _bruja_ using her abilities for her own ends." Catalina's eyes almost glowed a magenta color with her rage.

"If I find out you were out looking for trouble or deliberately putting yourself in harm's way because you wanted to meet someone you thought was some kind of hero they are not," Catalina's voice rose a bit and Dante flinched, "then there are no amount of prayers you can utter that will save you from my wrath, _mijo_." She turned to face Chloe. "And if I find out you were helping him in any way, you can forget any hospitality from us."

Chloe shook her head violently. She wanted to deny, but her tongue was frozen in her mouth. Catalina seemed satisfied. She raised her brow again and glanced around at her girls in the kitchen. Everyone went back to what they had been doing. She stepped closer to Chloe and Dante and lowered her voice. "I'm serious, you two. Don't go searching for Santa Muerte. I won't be able to keep you safe if you do." Chloe nodded, but Dante looked confused as she stepped around the counter.

The smell of the prepared food made Chloe's stomach growl loudly and Dante giggled while a few of the women smirked at her. She'd forgotten how hungry she was. Dante hadn't been lying when he said the girls always made the best food for guests.

Catalina watched the whole process quietly from the far corner of the kitchen, away from the foot traffic where everyone was getting food, conveniently where she could see everything going on both in the kitchen and through to the front room.

Everyone's eyes snapped to the front room as the door flew open with a _bang_ , slamming against the wall behind it. Chloe, Dante, and the two girls left in the kitchen all froze as the older woman moved from her position to confront whoever had assaulted her front door.

Angry voices speaking fast Spanish reached the kitchen and Chloe glanced at Dante just to see his face go white. He must have understood what they were saying. She wanted to ask but decided this was the ideal time to eat something. She chewed as quietly as she could, not wanting to draw attention from the other room, far too hungry to ignore the plate in front of her.

The voices in the front room were growing more heated, and Chloe could tell there were at least two men yelling at Catalina, who had yet to so much as raise her voice. She caught the word ' _gringa_ ' and swallowed too hard, fighting the urge to cough. They were here for her. Chloe decided she was done and slid from her stool to crouch and watch.

One stepped closer to Catalina and the woman didn't budge. They weren't yelling anymore, so Chloe couldn't hear any of what was being said. It seemed like they were threatening Catalina, though she was clearly not intimidated.

The man who had stepped into Catalina's personal space looked toward the stairs and raised his voice, speaking in English. "I know you all think you're protected here, but you don't want enemies of the Avenidas. We just want the  _gringa._ Her family misses her and if you cost us this business partnership, there will be no safe place for any of you."

He leaned in closer to Catalina, moving to put his hand on her cheek, but she was too quick. Before anyone knew what was happening, she'd grabbed his hand away, twisting his wrist and locking his arm, forcing him to his knees before her. The other two drew guns, but their leader snarled at them and they lowered their arms, weapons still out.

"Chloe." Her eyes widened at hearing Catalina call her name. She scrambled to her feet, moving out into the front room to where Catalina had the man immobilized on his knees. "Are these the men you've been hiding from?" Chloe looked closer, now that she was in front of them and not hiding around the corner. The two standing with their guns at their sides were in graphic tees and jeans, but the man Catalina had held down was in a button down and the image of her mother surrounded by these men flashed in her mind.

She nodded. "I think so."

Catalina turned to face them. "You may not think this house is protected and you may not respect me, but I am warning you. Do not cross me. It is not just the vigilante that you have to fear here. There is a reason these girls are under  _my_ protection. Do you hear me?" She jerked the man's arm to reinforce her point. He grunted in assent. She smirked and released him. He scrambled to his feet, undignified, and Chloe did her best not to smile. She really liked Catalina, she decided. The man glared at the both of them before storming out, shoving his way between his men to get to the door. Chloe did laugh then, as his men followed his lead.

Catalina turned to her once they were gone. "They will be back. If your parents are threatening their partnership because you ran away, they will do anything to get you back."

"But she'll be safe here, right, mamá?" Dante's voice came from the corner where the kitchen met the front room. Catalina sighed and Chloe stared at the floor, brushing at the carpet with her toes.

Catalina walked over to her son, kneeling down to meet his earnest violet gaze. "She might be safe here for a little while. But those are the kind of men I've told you about. The kind of men where  _machismo_ is the most important thing, and I embarrassed them. They won't forgive that. They'll come back, and they'll be angry. ¿ _Comprende, mijo_?" Dante's face fell and he nodded before staring at the floor.

"So what do you want to do with me?" Chloe was grateful that Catalina had defended her, but she didn't want this beautiful place to be put in danger because her family was in business with bad people. She waited while Catalina stood from where she was kneeling in front of Dante, still staring at the carpet, not quite ready to meet the woman's intense gaze. She felt a hand on her shoulder and glanced up to see compassion and warmth in Catalina's normally blank face.

"I meant what I said. You can stay as long as you need to. Just know that it may not be as safe as we thought. I don't know what you're hoping for, long term, but perhaps it's time to start figuring that out." Catalina's thick accent made the words heavy as Chloe turned them over in her mind.  _Long term_. That wasn't something she'd been thinking about when she'd ran. She had been so proud of herself for having the forethought to change out of her dress and heels, there wasn't much room for  _long term._

"I don't know what I'm hoping for. I just knew I wasn't safe, so I ran. I don't know what I want or where to go. But I'm not going home with them."

"Do you want to contact your parents?"

Chloe chewed on her lip, debating. Perhaps this whole thing could go away if she just told her parents she was safe and they could continue with their agreement with the Avenidas. "Do you think it will help?" She met Catalina's eyes with a bit of desperation, still seeing that compassion there, hoping to get some answers.

Catalina relented, sighing. "Honestly, I don't know. This is a dangerous business and people are unpredictable." Her face was sad and her words didn't make Chloe feel any more certain. Catalina sighed again, seeing she hadn't helped. "Come, why don't we sit and talk?"

Chloe nodded, jumping a little at calloused hands leading her back to the kitchen. Catalina circled around the counter to stand where she could both see the front room and face Chloe. Her stomach growled again and Catalina waved toward her plate, motioning for her to eat. She closed her eyes and hummed. This food was delicious, even cold. A noise next to her startled her again and she turned to see Dante taking his place back on the stool next to her. He glanced at his mother timidly, as if asking permission, which a small nod seemed to give.

Catalina turned back to Chloe. "Until all of this, did you trust your parents? Did you think they were good people?" Her violet eyes were intense and she did not blink as she asked. It was a hard question. All those small but calloused things they did, that she'd just shrugged off because they were a rich white family and that was how they behaved, could have been something more.

"I did, but there were things that I wasn't sure about. Things that forced me to remind myself we were no better than anyone else," she lowered her eyes to her plate, "things that almost kept me from walking in a place like this." She felt a small hand patting her shoulder, similar to how his mother had done. Chloe glanced at Dante and he smiled, all childlike innocence and forgiveness.

"For what it's worth, I haven't felt judged by you since you've been here. And it doesn't seem like he has either." Dante shook his head vigorously as his mother lifted her chin towards him. He patted Chloe's shoulder again, attempting to be comforting. It would have been comedic if the situation didn't feel so urgent. In only a few hours, her life had shifted dramatically yet again. She glanced at the moon in the window behind Catalina, wondering if other teens dealt with this much chaos.

"You don't need to make any decisions right now. Finish eating, get some sleep, and we'll talk again in the morning. Does that work for you?" Chloe nodded, trying to look grateful, feeling as helpless as she did. Dante was taking his own bites quietly next to her, seeming lost in his thoughts of the night's events. Chloe glanced at him, wondering if she should ask if he was alright. Something his mother said seemed to have shaken him. Catalina was watching them both closely, so Chloe decided it was best to just be done for the night. She slid off her stool, patting Dante on the shoulder as he'd done to her. He smiled.

"I think I'm going to get some sleep now, if that's alright," she said, lifting her head as if she'd made a decision for once. Catalina turned from the sink to peer at her, opening her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the front door opening. Dante and Chloe froze, wondering if the men were back already. Catalina stalked into the front room, and the two heard her greet someone in a kinder voice than Chloe had heard since she'd arrived. They watched as Catalina escorted someone to the foot of the stairs, gesturing grandly for him to climb the stairs. He thanked her and she watched until they all heard him be greeted by another voice, before a door closed upstairs.

_A customer_. Catalina returned and ushered them down the hidden hallway beneath the stairs to their rooms. Dante gave Chloe a quick hug before dashing behind his superhero door. She didn't even have time to process it before he was gone. Catalina smirked, and Chloe was reminded how very young he was - just a little boy looking for heroes.

Catalina stopped short of the door to the guest room that Chloe had settled in, turning to the teen. " _Buenas noches,_ Chloe. Get some sleep, alright?"

Chloe smiled and nodded, walking just past her host to her door. She opened it, pausing and glancing over her shoulder at the impressive woman who had already done so much for her in one evening. "Thank you," she paused - a simple thanks just didn't feel like enough, "for everything."

Catalina's purple eyes glittered in the dim hallway light as she inclined her head before turning on her heels and striding back up the hall towards the stairs. Chloe stepped cautiously into her dark room, finding clothes and a new toothbrush. She climbed into the fluffy bed, feeling more like a human than she had in too long. These people didn't deserve the trouble she'd brought them. Maybe she should contact her parents. Things certainly couldn't get much worse.

* * *

 

_Everyone is gone. They can never come back. I've lost them all. No more Espe, no more Mom or Dad.. Look what I've done. Now I'm going to destroy this family too. I will hurt them - the beautiful mother, the kind and fiery son, and all the quiet and fierce sisters that aren't sisters. Look at me! Look at this mess in the mirror. I ruin lives. It's what I do. I should have known when I met the poor boy by nearly giving him a concussion that this wasn't going to end well. And here we are. Guns waved around in the living room, children screaming..._

Children screaming.

_It was just a nightmare._  Dante was screaming. Or was it one of the girls upstairs? Chloe couldn't tell. Someone was screaming. That was real. That wasn't her nightmare. She sat straight up, making herself dizzy. A crash from upstairs answered her confused thoughts. It wasn't Dante. She was slightly repulsed at the relief that washed through her. She flung herself off the bed, pressed against the wall beside her locked door, glad the lights were all off. A small knock on her door made her hold her breath before she heard Dante whispering her name. She rushed over and unlocked the door, yanking it open, pulling him in, and closing it again, making sure to lock it once more.

"You okay, kid?" she whispered as loud as she dared.

He was quiet for a moment. " _Sí,_ " he whispered back, and she realized he must have been nodding in the dark.

"Is it the Avenidas again? Do you know?" He was quiet again. "Dante, you have to answer. I can't see you nodding your head."

" _No sé_ ," he said, "I don't know."

Chloe sighed. There was no one else it could be. They had to be here for her. She could hear Dante shifting beside her. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"I'm going to find _mamá_. I have to make sure she's safe!" Chloe grabbed for him, but he wasn't next to her. The door handle was rattling as he unlocked it and dashed out. _Stupid kid and his love for heroes_. She might as well be brave like the six-year-old boy who'd just run into danger to find his mother.

Chloe stepped out of the room, closing the door behind her and taking a deep breath to steel herself. She walked out slowly to the foot of the stairs, feeling like the cliche 'sheep to the slaughter.'

"If you're looking for me, I'm down here. You can leave them alone." She shouted loudly as she could, hoping the Avenidas bullying their way through the rooms would hear. The sound of heavy steps coming toward her caused her heart to race and she was about to be sick.

"Well, well. What do we have here?" The voice of a man rang out from the top of the stairs. Chloe lifted her chin, glaring at him with what she hoped looked like strength. She smirked as she remembered this man with his arm twisted behind him as he was on his knees at Catalina's feet.

_Catalina_! She hoped Dante had found her and they were both okay. Maybe she could at least be enough of a distraction for everyone to get to safety. She owed them that much.

"I'm surprised you came back so soon after the embarrassment you suffered at Señora Catalina's hands earlier," Chloe put her hands on her hips, looking like an impertinent teenager. In the lights of the main house, she could see him flush in anger. "I may be a  _gringa_ , but I thought  _machismo_ was important to men like you. I wouldn't expect you to show weakness by retaliating like this." She gestured at the upper floor. His flush deepened, fists clenched.

She smirked, raising a brow the way she'd seen Catalina do. "Or are you just a good dog, doing what the boss says, and coming to fetch me? Do my parents really miss me that much?"

He snarled and started down the steps. "Girl, you don't know who you're talking to!"

Chloe stood her ground, glaring up at him. "Do I look scared of you?"

He stopped a few steps above her. "No, I guess not. But that's your mistake," he hissed, coming down yet another step. Chloe focused on keeping her breathing even and gaze fierce. "Besides," he leaned back, motioning grandly, "where is the great Señora Catalina, anyway? Where is your protector?"

She smiled sweetly, praying to Santa Muerte, the way she'd seen Dante do as they entered the house, that something good would happen. "Oh, did you think I was here for fun? I'm the distraction."

As if in answer, the front door slammed open and she spun around, startled to see a woman carrying a scythe, clothed in black leather and chains, with long, bright orange hair that flowed over her shoulders and seemed to flicker like fire and a face like her skin had burned away to a painted - or tattooed? - skull.

_Santa Muerte_. The sound of guns cocking drew her attention and she dove to the side, knocking the wind out of herself. Everything went white as the clink of a chain rang out. When she could breathe and see again, Chloe inched around to see Santa Muerte unwrapping a chain from her waist in one fluid motion. It flew toward the stairs, igniting in magenta flames as it raced across the room with a life of its own, led by the blade of her scythe. The bright orange glow of Santa Muerte's hair dimmed to the same purple as the chains.  _Made a deal with the spirits_ , wasn't that what Catalina had said? It definitely seemed that way, watching this creature eliminate the gang members. She found she hoped Dante wasn't seeing his heroine after all.

The surreal events, the sight of the blood, the stress of confronting these men, and the smell of the burning flesh was enough to make Chloe vomit. She leaned over the tile and threw up. She could hear the muted clanging of the chain and the men screaming as she squeezed her eyes shut, desperately trying control the nausea. She was regretting all that delicious food now.

Someone grabbed her wrist and her eyes shot open. The man was in front of her, pulling her up with his gun in her face. Another scream came from the other room, and Chloe could see the panic on his face. Catalina warned him this place was protected. He was the idiot who didn't listen and would likely die for that stupidity. The man jerked his head toward the corner of the kitchen where Catalina kept retreating to and Chloe noticed there was a door further back, through a large utility room. Slowly and deliberately, she walked toward the door, circling around the counter.

He shoved his gun hard into her back, between her shoulder blades. She winced, shooting him a furious stare. " _Andale, gringa,_ " he snarled.

As she reached the door, she saw they were on the side of the house with a gorgeous sports car parked in the owner's spot.  _It must be Catalina's_ , she realized,  _that means they didn't get away._ The thought hit her harder than it should have for a mother and son whom she had only known for, what, a day or less?

The man grabbed her shoulder with his free hand, shoving her toward the car. "Get in, girl," each word was pointed and halting. She reached for the door but it was locked, unsurprisingly. Chloe didn't have time to process before a flaming scythe screamed past her to wrap around the man. She jumped away, frightened, and turned to the house, seeing the magenta flames illuminating Santa Muerte.

The skull-headed woman unraveled him, striding over and kneeling down to grab him by his bloody shirt. His eyes widened in fear as he raised his weapon again. Chloe stood off to the side, watching in grisly fascination.

The man turned away from the creature holding him and looked over at her. He aimed and Chloe couldn't react, even as the bullet hit her. "Your mother sends her love."

His screams were lost in her own pain as she went cold, despite all the warm blood pouring from her wound. The face hovering over her as she died was not Santa Muerte's but Catalina's and Chloe saw glowing magenta irises and not violet, but her dying mind didn't question it.

Her last thought was of Dante, hoping he knew _he_ was the hero he was searching for.


	2. Death's Vengeance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catalina has to deal with the aftermath of the attack and her grieving son. But Santa Muerte wants to punish the ones responsible for daring to attack their home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I'm only posting two for today. The next one is Cat's backstory. But I hope these two chapters give people enough of a taste to be interested!!!

"Your mother sends her love."

The shot had gotten out before she could stop him. The small blond girl collapsed with shock and pain on her face. A familiar scene flashed in her mind.

_It was a small town in Mexico, run by the cartel, a poor prostitute crying and holding the body of her little sister, while covered in her parents' blood. More gunshots rang out upstairs and she knew her baby brother was dead too. She didn't have a choice, she had to run, if not for her own safety, then at least for the safety of the baby she was carrying._

Rage filled her mind as the spirit that was in control could taste this man's guilt at the murder of such a young child. Santa Muerte was not forgiving, even in the best of circumstances, and she would not be compassionate in this. Power surged through her as the maroon flames deepened to a crimson, rippling down the chain held in her right hand. She still held the _Avenida_ by his shirt, blood coloring it from his wound from her scythe. Anger pooled into her hand gripping him, the same crimson flames glimmering to life. The man turned away from Chloe's body and where she was crumpled next to the Spider, grinning.

"You've started a war,  _chica_ ," his eyes were glazed with pain and blood loss. This would be too quick. The voice that rang out was not hers - it was Santa Muerte's, but Catalina was used to it.

"I've been waging this war longer than you know, boy. Your kind always loses." Her hand was engulfed in the red and maroon, and she swung the chain around with a slight flick of her wrist. He screamed and thrashed against her grip and the flames but was burned beyond recognition within seconds, wrapped in her weapon. A small voice came from behind her.

"Chloe?" Santa Muerte urged her not to turn, but she dropped the victim in her hands and turned to look at her son, forgetting for a moment that he wouldn't recognize her. Dante ran over to the body of the teen girl and Santa Muerte forced Catalina further beneath the surface as her desire to comfort her son was overwhelming. He shook the blond, hoping to wake her. Catalina allowed her weapon to wrap itself back around her waist as the flames died back down and resumed their bright orange color. He turned to her, a familiar ferocity in his violet eyes.

"Why didn't you save her?" Catalina had no words and was glad for the mask that Santa Muerte provided. The spirit seemed surprised at the boy's anger, but Catalina knew they both carried an affection for him. He asked his question again, "Why didn't you save Chloe?"

"I wasn't fast enough." Her boy's face fell. She'd tried to warn him away from this hero and now he'd seen her fail.

"But we were under your protection," his voice was quiet and soft. She couldn't bear it now. She leaned down to him, flame-orange hair and tattooed skull closer to the small boy's level.

"You will always be under my protection. And I am sorry about your friend," the spirit's voice echoed against the house. "Now go inside, find your family, and stay safe." She stood, clearly dismissing him. Dante was still kneeling next to Chloe's body. He stood slowly, reluctant to leave her body there. Santa Muerte knelt and lifted her limp figure. Dante looked like he was about to protest, but thought better of it. He put on his best stern face and nodded, before dashing back in the door she had burst out of. She stalked around to the front to the obnoxious SUV the  _Avenidas_ had come in. She gently placed the teen across the back seats. Catalina allowed her mind to hide away as Santa Muerte went to work cleaning up.

The gang members were piled in the back of their own SUV, their weapons tossed on top of their burned and lifeless bodies. She drove the vehicle out to their own territory, leaving it for, hopefully, cops to find. Catalina could feel Santa Muerte's power surge as she tugged the chain from around her waist again, igniting it effortlessly. The maroon flames spread, and she whirled the weapon across the hood of the  _Avenidas'_ vehicle leaving a red-hot rose mark when she was finished. They would have no doubt who was responsible for the deaths.

Ballistics would tell who shot the girl. She would not be blamed for Chloe's death. Well, maybe at first, she would, but not after it was investigated. Santa Muerte whipped the chain back around her waist, the pressure somewhat reassuring again. The buzzing voice in her mind was quiet. The spirit that possessed her had been silent throughout this whole ordeal. This fight had been different than their others - it wasn't their score to settle. Defending and protecting was new. Somehow it felt  _right._ Maybe Dante was right. Maybe she could be a hero. Santa Muerte growled in her mind. That wasn't part of the deal.

Her hair shimmered that same maroon as the magicked flames as the spirit in her mind called out to her Spider. Catalina felt the power surge as the car raced toward her. She didn't worry about it. She knew it would make it without incident. Whatever Santa Muerte had done to it kept this gorgeous car that she had stolen all those years ago connected to her. The Spider appeared, maroon flames peeking out from the front grill. The sleek black car rolled up and Catalina slipped into the driver's seat with practiced ease. Santa Muerte released control and she could feel the burning sensation as the crimson flames receded, leaving her flawless dark skin. The maroon deepened to crimson and finally to the auburn of her natural hair. She stretched her jaw, feeling the pull on the muscles in her face, reminding her that it was there again.

Catalina pushed the small button to start the car, feeling the engine roar to life under her. She pulled a hard one-eighty turn and made her way back home. She knew she was going to have to explain her disappearance to the girls, and, more importantly, to Dante. The poor small boy had suffered too much loss today. She glanced over the LA skyline to see the sun starting to rise.  _What a night_ , she thought, to both herself and the spirit that she knew was there in the back of her mind. Santa Muerte wouldn't likely respond. She wasn't a talkative companion. But Catalina knew she wasn't the only one who was paired with a spirit and empowered with supernatural abilities.

Everyone in Los Angeles had heard about the Ghost Rider and his campaign against the local gangs. She could sense him sometimes. The spirit in him was different.  _Vengeance_ , Santa Muerte had called him. But Catalina wasn't comfortable calling herself a Rider. When she'd come to California, Santa Muerte had warned her of America's history with the Ghost Riders. There were others like her who struck deals with spirits for varying reasons - some to save family members and some to avenge them, but most ended up enslaved to the spirits. Her partnership with Santa Muerte wasn't like that. Catalina had been seeking the power to put an end to the cartel that had murdered her family, instead she had found a kindred spirit in Santa Muerte - in more ways than one.

She pulled her Spider back into its customary parking spot. Her son came running out, oblivious as she tugged the chain from her waist while still seated in the driver's seat, tossing it in the cramped back seat of her sports car. The rest of her outfit had reverted to normal, but the chain was always there, it didn't disappear with the transformation. It was convenient, though. She'd never had to worry about blood-stained clothing or tracking mud or incriminating evidence home with her. It was all part of Santa Muerte.

Dante pulled her door open and flung himself in her lap, crying. She wrapped her arms around him and tugged him up into the car with her, letting him sit up against the steering wheel, taking care that he didn't lean against the horn. Her boy buried himself in her shoulder and continued crying, wetting her tank top with his tears. She soothed him, rubbing his back, desperately holding back tears of her own. He had never been meant to suffer this kind of pain. Catalina had been deliberately trying to keep her son from losing people he cared about to gangs and their wars. It was the one thing she'd wanted to do better than her own  _familia_.

Now she was holding her son while he grieved the loss of a friend to  _Las Avenidas_ the same way Santa Muerte had comforted her after she'd lost her parents and siblings to the Sinaloa cartel back home in Mexico. She felt Dante's pain deeper than she had her own on that day nearly seven years ago. Rage seared through her and she could hear Santa Muerte's growl in the back of her mind as she felt the power pooling her hands, heat racing through her veins. Catalina knew if she looked in the mirror now, her eyes would be that same glowing maroon that ignited her chain.

She hugged Dante closer to her chest, cooling the dangerous anger that was building in response to his hurt. Vengeance could wait. Her boy needed her to hold him and remind him that he was safe. Their home needed repair and her girls would need counseling. There were other things that needed her attention. Revenge could wait. She was needed at home.

Catalina swung her legs out of the Spider, carrying her sobbing son into the house. They made their way through the utility room and the kitchen and she took him straight through his Avengers themed door. They sat on his small bed and he lifted his head off her shoulder, looking up at her finally.

"Where were you, _mamá_?" Catalina cringed at his question, but she knew it was one she was going to have to answer to both him and the girls.

"I drove to the police, I left as soon as I saw Santa Muerte leave, so I could tell them where she was going with the..." she paused, not wanting to say the word 'bodies' and risk upsetting him. "I didn't want to call them here. I'm sure they'll find their way here soon enough." He nodded, calming. She rubbed circles around his small back, taking in the precious feeling of her sweet boy snuggled up in her lap, even if it was grief that had put him there.

" _¿_ _Tienes sueño,_ _mijo?_ " she asked him. Dante nodded again, sniffling and rubbing at his eyes. She squeezed him tight before lifting him off her lap and onto the bed. He clambered under his superhero blankets and flopped down, looking just as young as he actually was for once. She tucked him in and ran her fingers through his hair, leaning down to kiss him gently on his forehead.

" _Te amo_ _,_ _mijo."_

" _Te amo también_ _,_ _mamá."_ He yawned as she continued running her fingers through his hair. It didn't take him long to fall asleep. They'd gone to bed at nearly two in the morning, and the home invasion had started only a few hours after. It was really no surprise this little six-year-old boy was exhausted. She let herself out of his room as quietly as she could. Convincing the girls would be a much more daunting task - and would require _café -_  lots of coffee. She ran her hand through her hair as she trudged through the mess that was her front room and kitchen. It was going to be a rough week. Santa Muerte snickered in the back of her mind and Catalina had to resist the urge to roll her eyes at the mischievous spirit. She was glad she wasn't a Rider like the others and always at odds with the spirit that shared her mind. But then, Santa Muerte wasn't like the demons that made those deals with those men either.

_Leave it to demons to prey on a man's pride and egotistical need for vengeance_ , Santa Muerte had ranted one night they'd seen a flaming Charger on the news and reports of the murderous Ghost Rider of LA. The coffee pot gurgled at her that it was finished, and she poured a large cup, dumped her sweetened creamer in it, as well as a scoop of vanilla protein powder. The smell of the  _dulce de_ _leche_ creamer and vanilla protein powder was delicious. Her stomach rumbled, and she remembered that she hadn't eaten while she watched out for Chloe and Dante the night before. She'd also been shot quite a few times while transformed, and that took a significant amount of energy to heal, even with the power granted to her by Santa Muerte. She opened a few cabinets and worked to make herself something to eat. She eventually had some cinnamon raisin toast with butter sitting on a plate in front of her.

She leaned against the counter in her same spot, comfortably near the back exit and with a clear view of the disaster that was her pockmarked front room. The girls were moving about upstairs. Furniture was scuffling against the thickly carpeted floors and doors were quietly opening. Wherever they had sheltered for the night, they were coming out of their hiding spots. Catalina sipped her coffee, surveying broken lamps, ripped paintings, and stuffing from the couches scattered in a trail from up the stairs through to the kitchen. She heard the small gasps as the girls finally made their way down. She glanced over at the stove.

_10:22 am._

Well at least it was still morning. She could feel Santa Muerte glowering at her judgmental attitude in the back of her mind. Inhaling and taking another swallow of her  _café_ , she nodded to the three young women who had made their way into the kitchen. They stood around, watching as she leaned against the counter, waiting for her to say something.

"Is everyone alright?" there wasn't much else she could ask. The girls stared at her, as if not sure how to respond. The redhead, Lilly, was the first to say anything.

"Of course, we're not alright, Cat! These men show up, tear through our rooms, fire god-knows-how-many bullets through our walls and then some fire-haired invincible vigilante shows up with a fiery chain, kills them all and drives off in their own SUV?  _We're not anywhere near alright_." Her tone was dripping with an extra dose of her normal acerbic attitude. Lilly was right, she couldn't realistically expect them to be alright.

"I just mean, is anyone hurt?" She had the decency to look chastised by Lilly's tirade, though still leaning calmly against the counter. The girls exchanged looks. Arianna, one of the girls who had been with Catalina since the beginning, spoke up.

"No, no one's hurt. And everyone's accounted for," she paused, clearly debating the best way to say it, "except for the girl, Chloe." A collective sigh went around the kitchen. These girls knew what it meant to be taken by the gangs. Catalina wasn't going to let them suffer through imagining the worst.

"He killed her." They stared. Santa Muerte growled at her lack of tact and compassion and she grimaced herself, knowing there had to be better ways to break bad news. " _El Avenida_ , the leader, he shot her. I think the woman who saved us took her when she took the rest of them." She looked around at her mess of a home and business once again. "It's a pity her superpowers don't extend to construction and housecleaning. Santa Muerte grumbled in the back of her mind. They'd had this argument jokingly before. Catalina wasn't comfortable with collateral damage.

They hadn't asked yet. She knew it was coming. She could practically see the gears turning in Lilly's head.

"Where were you? We needed you.  _Your son needed you_." The words were meant to wound, she knew. She'd spent her time with her breakfast and coffee formulating her answer to this exact question. She'd realized she'd already given herself half of the answer when she'd told Dante about reporting to the cops.

"What exactly did you think would happen if someone called the cops about the gunshots here? Did you want this place, our home, our livelihood, being shut down and everything we've built being for nothing? I wasn't about to let that happen. I followed her when she dumped the SUV and I went to the cops myself, and told them where the bodies were. I was protecting all of us. Or do you forget I have lived through what this kind of situation gets us before? Have you forgotten I was the one who found my family slaughtered by the cartel in Mexico? I held my sister while she bled out and heard  _mi_ _hermano's_ screams as he was gunned down on the floor above me. I wasn't about to let this life be taken from me by another gang." Catalina looked around the room. More of the girls had made their way into the kitchen, maybe drawn in by her raised voice, maybe finally hungry and awake enough to be moving about. Lilly wouldn't meet her eyes. She had their attention, and whatever respect was wavering at her disappearance during the incident overnight she was quickly regaining. She continued.

"The cops won't be coming here. They won't know this is where Chloe sought refuge. But they will know that it was Santa Muerte who killed those men and  _Las Avenidas_ who killed her. We'll repair everything here,  _Las Avenidas_ and their members are no longer welcome as clients of  _any_ of us. If you see their marks, or you have any regulars you know of who are, they’re done. They can find new girls.” There was some muttering among the girls. Catalina knew at least Arianna had gang members for regular clients. She was sure the others did too, but she generally gave them the freedom to build their own clientele, so long as they paid their room and board. None of them had any response. She saw that her alibi was well received. Arianne spoke up again.

“So what’s next for us, then?” All of the girls had made their way into the kitchen now and exchanged looks, nodding. Catalina pushed her weight off from the counter where she was leaning, setting her coffee cup down.

“We close down for the next few days. We clean, scrub every bit of blood out of our carpet, and replace what needs replaced, and hire someone to fix what needs repaired. And if it takes more than a few days, so be it.” They all nodded. Her plan made sense to them. She motioned to the utility room. “You all know where the supplies are. We all help and it’ll get done quickly. Peroxide gets blood out, and make a list of items that were damaged in your rooms. I know that there might be burn marks. Make note of them and let me know. I’ll have them repaired too once the blood is cleaned. Eat, get dressed, do what you need to, and we’ll get to work.”

Sensing they were dismissed, the girls dispersed, moving about the kitchen to whatever brought them there before Catalina’s speech. Arianna moved to stand next to Cat, grabbing a coffee mug out of the cabinet above them and pouring herself some and sipping at it without any cream, sugar, or protein to speak of. The two both leaned against the counter, observing the younger girls bustling around and eating or drinking their coffees.

“That was quite a rousing speech, Cat,” Arianna muttered so only Catalina could hear her. Catalina pulled her arms up across her chest, arching her back and shrugging. “So where did you come up with that one? Notifying the police? Hardly your style.” Cat turned to glare at her.

“I was covering for us. That’s all that needs to be known. I sent a message to _Las Avenidas_ and the police alike. They know not to mess with Santa Muerte or Catalina Tafoya. It worked in our favor. And whatever respect I was losing with the girls has been regained. It worked out.”

“I thought we had agreed you wouldn’t come here as _her_ , though. _I thought she agreed._ ” Arianna hissed the last few words with emphasis. Cat flinched and Santa Muerte growled loudly in the back of her mind. She was right, of course. They had both agreed – Catalina and Santa Muerte – not to ever intervene at their home. Cat hadn’t imagined she would ever have to transform at her home. She was unnaturally strong even without the transformation, and she had quite a few of the supernatural abilities when she was still in control, like with the chain or car.

But here they were. Clearly, they had both been mistaken.

“I know what we agreed to. But I couldn’t let them hurt everyone and she wasn’t about to watch another massacre. Would you have preferred I didn’t intervene at all?”

“No obviously not, but you were risking someone seeing you, or worse, someone tying Santa Muerte to this place we’ve built. What if you’re discovered? What would we all do then? What would Dante do then?”

“Don’t do that,” Cat snapped. “You don’t get to use my son against me. I saved all your asses. We both did. And you know full well that I would never have done it if I didn’t think it was the only way to keep everyone safe.” Catalina was doing her best to keep her voice down still, not wanting any of the other girls to hear their argument and possibly piece together what they were fighting about.

“I just mean,” Arianna paused, “I want you to know that I’m afraid that everything would come crashing down for all of us without you, that’s all.” Ari looked away, staring into her coffee at the dark liquid. They both stood in silence for a moment, watching the women they both looked after like sisters finish up in the kitchen.

Arianna had been a part of this since she’d settled here in LA. Ari had been there when Catalina stole the Spider from that rich _gringo_ in Hollywood who thought that helping a poor, pregnant immigrant girl meant he owned her. Santa Muerte had made sure it would never be traced, burning a new VIN into it, and she was even able to register it in her own name. She glanced back over at her dearest friend, one of the few who knew who she was. Ari was like her, had been desperate to get out of Mexico and had nearly been trafficked coming into the US. If it hadn’t been for Catalina and Santa Muerte, she would have ended up trapped in the trade, carted off God knows where.

Catalina turned to Ari, her violet eyes intense as she locked gaze with Ari’s deep brown irises. Cat’s face softened apologetically, moving to speak, but Arianna held up her hand, stopping her.

“We don’t need your apologies. You’re right. You saved us. Just remember – without you we are lost. Don’t risk discovery without necessity.” Catalina nodded and Ari turned toward the utility room, grabbing a stack of cleaning towels and tossing them on the counter, motioning to some of the other girls to grab them and start cleaning. Lilly came down the stairs with two large bottles of peroxide. Two of the younger girls grabbed them up, taking several of the rags with them as they headed into the front room where the blood stains were most concentrated.

Cat watched as they all started tending to the tasks she had set before them. She ducked under the sink, grabbing out a box of large black trash bags. She set it on the counter and left it for the others to use before setting off down the hall to check on her son and look through Chloe's room. Santa Muerte was there in the back of her mind, urging her to move, to see if there was some way to set this whole thing aright.

Dante was still sleeping peacefully in his superhero bed, swallowed by pillows and blankets. She resisted the pull in her chest that made her want to go sit on his bed and just watch him sleep. Instead, she closed his door gently and opened the guest room. The bed was mussed and Chloe's clothes were still folded on the loveseat. She'd been in the borrowed pajamas when Santa Muerte - Catalina - had lifted her body into the back of that SUV. The urging of the spirit was still a nagging in her mind, so she checked the clothes, rummaging through the pockets. She glanced over at the desk across from the bookshelves with her collection of Spanish books. There was the hint she was looking for. The beginnings of a letter to Chloe's parents was there, addressed and nearly too good to be true.

Although, to be fair, she had led Chloe on a bit by suggesting she give her the address for her parents. It had been more so Santa Muerte could investigate their gang dealings than to help the poor teenage girl. The letter was emotional and apologetic, making Catalina's face twitch a bit in anger. Clearly, Chloe felt like the whole thing had been her fault in some way. That wasn't right. She didn't owe them any kind of apology.

_Your mother sends her love._ The words echoed in her head. What if the cartel had whispered something similar to her own family before mowing them down with their guns? Would they have felt just as betrayed and abandoned as Chloe had in her final moment?

Santa Muerte growled at her thoughts. They would only get her trapped in memories that she often couldn't get out of. She snatched the letter off the desk before setting about the task of stripping the bed and gathering up any used towels or linens. She carried it all through the house in a large bundle. The girls saw what she had and moved away, nodding in acknowledgement. Cat deposited the pile of linens and borrowed clothes in the utility room, patting her pocket again to ensure the letter was still there.

She wandered to the front room to see how the clean up was progressing. A couple of younger girls were scrubbing away at the stains on the carpet, while others had moved the damaged furniture to the street, next to the bags filled with whatever items were irredeemable. Lilly sauntered up to her with a clipboard.

"We've been going through the rooms upstairs, there's less damage than you would think - a few lamps here and there, maybe a mirror or two. Most of it was just a mess. The largest cost is going to be down here." She waved her hand at the disaster of a front room. Bullet holes were spattered across the outer wall and door, both couches had already been taken to the curb, deemed beyond saving. Catalina surveyed the wreckage coolly.

"Well you girls all have this pretty well in hand. I'm going to go talk to my contact about getting the repairs started tomorrow. It looks like we'll be pretty much done cleaning it all up by then," she paused looking for Lilly's reaction. Arianna walked by and Cat motioned for her to join them. "If I head out to meet up with a contractor, do you think I'm good to tell them to start tomorrow morning? And while they work, we replace furniture and plan on everything being up and running in, say, two days?" Lilly and Ari exchanged a look, evaluating and turning to look the front room over again. Ari nodded.

" _Sí_ , that should work," she said, giving Catalina a knowing glare. Lilly nodded her agreement. Cat breathed a sigh of relief.

"Okay, you two keep the cleaning on track, call if you need anything from me. I'm going to find out if my contractor can be here in the morning. I should be back by early evening. Apologize to any clients that show up, let them know we should be operational in 48 hours." Cat turned and moved toward the kitchen again before turning back. "And let Dante know I love him and I'll see him later." Ari smiled and waved her off. Catalina made her way through the kitchen and out to her Spider in the back.

As she sat down behind the wheel, Santa Muerte's power surged through her and into the car. It started on its own and, more or less, drove itself out of the side lot and onto the bare roads of their neighborhood. She would go to the contractor first, but then she planned to make her way to the Beverly Hills address scrawled on the letter in her pocket.

Santa Muerte was practically buzzing in her head, eager to get out and punish some of the gang members who had threatened their home and everything they had built. Catalina shook her head, trying to quiet the spirit that shared her body. They needed to be smart this time. Charging into a ritzy home, hair and chain ablaze, was not the most logical move to make. This wouldn't be like their typical night of just prowling the streets, looking for low-level deals to bust up or fights to pick. She would get farther walking in as an anonymous face, with information about Chloe and a message from Santa Muerte.  The spirit grumbled at the plan, disappointed at the lack of action it would entail.

Her sleek sports car sped through the streets with her hands barely guiding the wheel. It knew where to go. This contractor friend of hers had helped her build their home in the beginning. He and Jal would help again and, thankfully, they were pretty good at building and repairing just about anything. She pulled into the adorable two-story shop. The bright neon EAST LA CONSTRUCTION sign flashed obnoxiously above her and she rolled her eyes. One of these days, she was going to 'accidentally' hit it with her supernaturally indestructible sports car. They'd never know. She slipped out of her car, and could hear the door chime as a lithe blonde man with a large tattoo on his forearm stepped out, accompanied by a taller dark skinned man with his black hair pulled back in a messy, long, dark ponytail. She smiled at them and they both waved as she walked up.

"Cat! So good to see you," Jal was a Syrian refugee Catalina had taken in when he'd first come to the US. His partner in business and marriage, the blonde man standing next to him, Kris, had only agreed to build out Cat's contract if she housed his husband that he was trying to get out of Syria. They both hugged her and she stiffly returned the affectionate gesture. There were very few people that Catalina and Santa Muerte allowed physically near her, but Dante and these two were included on that list, along with Arianna, if she ever decided to.

"I'd really love to visit with you, but I'm on my way to the firehouse. At this rate, I'm going to be late." Kris turned to his husband and gave him a brief kiss goodbye and hugged Cat again before she could protest, flashing her a smile, knowing how she felt about being touched. He walked around the shop to his small beater of a car and pulled away, waving to them both. Jal turned to her.

"So, what brings you to my shop? Another mysterious incident you can't explain?" He raised his brow at her, mimicking her common expression. Cat scoffed.

"No. Actually, this one is perfectly explicable," she shot him a childish glare with a tilt of her head. Something about these two always made her more mischievous than was normal. Santa Muerte loved it. "We took in a girl who was running from  _Las Avenidas_ yesterday. Well, it didn't take them long to find us, for me to piss them off, and for them to come back in the middle of the night and basically take a couple of machine guns to my front room." Jal narrowed his eyes at her and brushed some flyaway hairs back in thought.

"This wouldn't happen to have anything to do with the bodies of several gang-bangers found in an SUV with a murdered teen girl over on the other side of town, would it? I heard that SUV was marked by Santa Muerte." Jal stared at her, his glare not wavering. She held his gaze for a few moments before relenting.

"So what if Santa Muerte showed up? Without her, more people than just the girl would have died." Catalina looked away, not wanting to see the disapproval on his face. She knew he suspected she was involved with Santa Muerte somehow, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of coming outright and telling him and the spirit in the back of her mind was suspiciously silent on the subject.

"Cat, you need to be careful. This is getting serious. There's major news coverage on this one. People are going to be asking questions and looking for a crime scene." The softness in Jal's voice reminded her of her own reassurances she gave him when he was still fresh from his war-torn home, having nightmares and reluctant to go to sleep for fear that he would relive it all over again in his dreams. Cat sighed, crossing her arms in front of her. Jal sighed too and ran his hands over his hair again, trying to smooth the flyaways down the best he could. It was a nervous habit. He shook his head at her. "Why don't you just come inside and we'll figure out how to fix up the mansion?"

She exhaled in a quick laugh, shaking her head at him now. "Okay. Let's go talk business." She held out a hand for him to lead the way and he opened the door to his haven of a shop, the chime above her ringing obnoxiously as she walked through. Catalina rolled her eyes, glaring at him as she passed by where he was holding the door for her. The chime was louder than the last time she was here.

He shrugged. "I fixed it."

She laughed at that. The stupid thing had  _not_ been broken. She glanced around his shop. Nothing much had changed in the few weeks it had been since she'd visited her friends. It still smelled strongly of freshly cut wood and melted solder. Unfinished projects were scattered about, but there was at least a path to the office. That must have been at Kris' demand. They made their way through Jal's mess of electronics and construction supplies to a small table buried under what looked like car parts. Catalina couldn't be sure. Her car would never break down, after all. She could sense Santa Muerte humming in pride at the thought.

She sat at the table and Jal flitted about, looking for something on some shelves near the office. Finally he let out a victorious sound and pulled a set of shop drawings from under a couple of old ham radios that appeared to be in pieces. He carried the oversized pages to the table, sweeping car parts to the side unceremoniously and setting the drawings on the table facing Cat. She examined them, recognizing the floor plan of her own home and business. Jal gestured to a large area on the page.

"So this is your front room," he pointed, "and here are the stairs. Can you show me where the damages are?" He pulled a piece of thin trace paper out and laid it over, handing Catalina a highlighter. She nodded.

"Bullet holes basically all through here," she highlighted the front wall. "A little bit of structural damage to a few stairs and railing, and some re-carpeting needed here too." She marked the lower stairs. Jal whistled, running his thin hands over his hair again.

"And if you're here, that means you're hoping to get the repairs started soon." Cat nodded. "How soon?"

"We were thinking tomorrow if you were available." Jal sighed, glancing around his shop as if evaluating how much work he already had to do. Her violet eyes were neutral as she watched for a sign of a decision on his narrow face. He sighed again and met her blank stare, nodding.

"Yeah, I can be there in the morning with some repair supplies. It sounds like a basic enough construction job. I'll let Kris know to draw up a quick contract for you." Catalina smiled but Jal's face was still serious. She raised a brow at him. He stared at her, as if deciding how to proceed.

"I'll come repair the mansion, but I don't want you involved with Santa Muerte anymore." He held up a hand to stop whatever protest was coming. "Don't bother denying it. I've known since I was staying with you. I don't know why you insist on putting yourself in unnecessary danger when you have a son and so many others depending on you at home, but it needs to stop." As he raised his voice, his slight accent thickened and he settled into glowering at her.

Catalina leaned back in the chair, crossing her arms. Her face was blank, but she knew Jal wouldn't be intimidated by that. She had known Kris for much longer than Jal, but it was Jal she was closer to.  _Should we tell him?_ she directed her thoughts to the spirit that had been quiet for most of their time in the shop. A warm hum was all she got in response.

Cat sighed, feeling Santa Muerte's power tingling through her. "It's not unnecessary."

"What?"

Cat closed her eyes tight, pinching the bridge of her nose. "The danger. It's not unnecessary. And I can't stop." She met his glare, her eyes flashing crimson as she held out her hand. Her chain appeared, draping down from her hand and dropping on the floor with a  _clang_ , the scythe at the end burning the same crimson as her eyes.

Jal leaped back from the table, knocking his chair askew in the process. She stood in a fluid motion, extinguishing the red flames and flicking the chain so that it wrapped around her waist before sitting back down. She spread her arms out in a wide gesture.

"Now you know." Jal just stared, mouth hanging open and flyaway hairs standing up at all angles. Catalina raised her brow at him again and he recovered slightly, picking up his chair and returning to the table cautiously.

"Who else knows?" he whispered, almost reverently.

"Just you and Arianna."

"Are you inhuman?"

"No." Cat shook her head violently. There had been no husk and transformation for her.

"What, then?"

"Santa Muerte and I," she paused, searching for the right word, " _cohabitate_ my body. She's here,  _en mi cabeza,_ and sometimes she's the one in charge."

"So like a possession?" Catalina nodded. "Is she a demon? Like with Faust and some kind of deal with the devil shit?"

She sighed. "No, not exactly. It's hard to explain. There are others like me, called Ghost Riders, who have made deals like that with demons for powers like mine, but Santa Muerte isn't one of them and I'm not a Rider. Not really. She's something called a Celestial, but she's only partially in our dimension. I'm not sure how it all works. I just know that most of her is trapped somewhere, but a small part was able to help me. And here we are."

Jal glanced from her down to the floor plans on the table. "The bullet holes in the whole front wall... Were you standing at the front door when they fired?" She nodded. "How were you not hit?"

"I was. Several times, in fact. But I heal remarkably fast now and I already had a high pain tolerance before any of this." Cat shrugged. "One of the benefits of being a mother or it could be my history of prostituting for the cartel as a teenage girl. Pain was just part of the job." Jal gaped at her. She could tell this conversation was more or less over.

She stood from the table, nodding to him. "I'll see you in the morning?" She looked expectantly and he nodded. She smiled and turned, making her way through the messy shop back over to the door and its obnoxious chime. It was time to go pay a visit to Chloe's parents. She patted her pocket again, her forearm jostling against the chain wrapped around her torso. As she opened the door and the nasally sound rang out, she grimaced and waved to Jal who raised a hand, still seated at the table by his office. She got in her Spider and tugged her weapon free, dropping it back to the floorboard of the back seat, where it had been before Santa Muerte had called it to her to show off.

Absentmindedly, she let the car start while she held down a button to lower the cloth top. If she was heading over to Hollywood, the least she could do was look like she belonged. She pulled out her phone to shoot Ari a text.

_Jal should be able to make it tomorrow. Drawing up contract now. Should be home in a few hours. Going to run one more errand after and will head back._

She pulled out of the parking lot of EAST LA CONSTRUCTION and was on her way. The address was on her lap so that she knew where she was going, but she spent most of the drive replaying the scene of the previous night in her mind. Santa Muerte had been in control, but Catalina could still hear the  _vato_ telling Chloe, "Your mother sends her love." She couldn't kill him enough times in her memory for it. So much of her hoped he was just trying to wound the poor girl's heart before he killed her, that her mother hadn't actually sent them to kill her. Catalina couldn't imagine what kind of mother would do such a thing. She was a cold person, and even she would never imagine any,  _any_ , circumstance that could ever bring her to deliberately harm Dante. Chloe had said that her parents were both more or less in the film industry, so it made sense they lived in a neighborhood like the one she found herself in. Cat glanced at houses that put her 'mansion' to shame, thinking no single family could ever need that much space.

She saw the street listed on the paper laying on her lap and put her hands back on the steering wheel she had been neglecting for most of the drive. As she pulled up to a gate with a call box, she pushed a button, waiting for someone to ask why she was there. She hadn't quite thought this whole thing through. She could feel the spirit in her mind buzzing in anticipation, ready for some kind of fight, and Cat tried to quiet her. This wasn't going to turn into another bloodbath if she could help it. The box beeped.

_Can I help you?_

"Um yes, I have some information about Chloe. I have a letter from her for her parents. She left it with me and I promised to deliver it." Santa Muerte hissed, knowing that this meant she was going to be welcomed - at least at first. The box buzzed and the gate in front of her sports car opened soundlessly. She pulled through to a gorgeous hacienda style home that could probably fit three of hers in it. A dark skinned man with a large 'A' tattooed on his neck stood at the front entrance, waiting for her to park and walk up. She fixed him with her coldest possible stare.

The  _Avenida_ smirked at her, inclining his head. "Señora Catalina. We didn't expect to see you here." Her violet eyes flashed and it took everything in her to keep Santa Muerte from burning him where he stood.

"No, I suspect not. I suppose you thought I'd be dead or too afraid of you and yours to show my face after what you did to my home."

The  _vato_ didn't miss a beat. "You mean after what the vigilante Santa Muerte did to your home. I heard she killed several of our men and a teen girl. Such a shame." He  _tsk_ -ed and Catalina could feel her mask break as a snarl twitched on her lips ever so briefly. He caught it too, but had no chance to reply as Chloe's parents exited the house and joined them on the front stairs, both with the same blonde hair and blue eyes as the teen.

The gangster turned to them and introduced her. "Mr. and Mrs. Williams, this is Señora Catalina Tafoya." Catalina inclined her head to both of them.

The father reached out to shake her hand and she returned the gesture. "Please, call me Eric, and this is my wife, Virginia." She shook the wife's hand.

"You can call me Ginny." Chloe's mother smiled at her, but it wasn't genuine. It was the smile of a woman who was used to being able to charm anyone to get what she wanted.

_Your mother sends her love._ Santa Muerte growled dangerously in her mind and Cat couldn't help but agree.

" _Encantado_ ," she told them, letting her accent thicken, knowing it would likely make them a bit uncomfortable.

Ginny rushed over to her, lacing her arm through Cat's. "Please, come in," she pulled Cat in through the large double doors that they had left open as they had made their grand introduction. "I would so love to hear about my Chloe. The police only just left about an hour ago. I haven't even been able to cry yet." Catalina looked at her with her neutral stare as she allowed herself to be dragged by the arm into a living room that was the size of her entire upper floor. Ginny deposited her into an ornate armchair that she sunk into despite her best efforts to keep her weight shifted forward. The  _Avenida_ guard stood at the entrance to the room, while the Williamses sat together on a couch with a design that was just a sickeningly opulent as the armchair Catalina found herself practically drowning in. This family was  _clearly_ proud of their money. Their privilege was written on every piece of furniture, every wall, every painting, even on the way they kept a Latino staff, she noticed. Her own anger was making keeping the inter-dimensional celestial being in her head at bay rather difficult.

"You said the police were here?" Ginny interlocked her fingers with her grieving husband's hand and turned to Cat, smiling that same fake smile, this time meant to look somewhat sad.

"Yes, they brought us the news that they had found our Chloe, murdered. All this after her missing for eight days! Eight!" She turned away dramatically and it took all of Catalina's effort not to roll her eyes. This woman spent too much of her time around Hollywood. "She was found in an SUV with that horrid vigilante's mark burnt into it - that Santa Muerte woman - with seven other bodies. All men the police suspect were involved in gang activity." Chloe's mother whispered the last two words as if Cat would be shocked to hear them, but her violet eyes remained steady and her face stayed neutral. Jal had told her there was news coverage, so she didn't have to act surprised.

"I'm so very sorry for your loss," she told them, keeping her face as blank as she could. If she was lucky, they would think she was just a completely inexpressive person. She doubted it, though. She was rarely lucky. The father muttered his thanks, but went back to his sulking. Ginny straightened on her couch.

"So, Roberto here tells me you have a letter for us from Chloe?" Catalina nodded and drew the folded paper out of her pocket, and the guard, Roberto, grabbed it from her, handing it to the mother, who continued looking at Cat without reading it.

"It doesn't look like it was finished, but I saw the address on it and figured it was at least worth the trip to give you what she wrote. I would want the same." The mother's eyes glittered, Santa Muerte growled again in the back of her mind and Cat could feel the threat in the coming question.

"Oh, do you have children?"

Roberto spoke up from the entryway. "Señora Catalina has a son, Dante."

Cat turned to fix him with her violet eyes, narrowing them to a dangerous glare. He smiled at her, inclining his head. She returned the gesture. "Yes, a son, as he says. He's quite a bright and capable boy," she said. She smiled warmly, letting Ginny see that two could play at this game.

The other woman simply nodded thoughtfully. She finally turned her attention to the folded piece of paper in her hands that were the last recorded words of her teenage daughter. They couldn't tell her how brave her girl had been in the face of guns and fire and scythes, or how she had offered herself up as a distraction, hoping that others could get out. The apologies in that letter would never tell of the girl who had walked a six year old boy home because she didn't think he should be out on the streets by himself looking for a vigilante, or of the white rich girl who was brave enough to walk into a brothel in the middle of El Sereno and ask for charity from strangers.

And, until Catalina knew whether or not these people had sent those  _vatos_ to hunt that brave girl down, they weren't going to know, either. She waited for the mother to finish reading what little was written of the letter before speaking again.

"Like I said, I don't think it was finished. But I found it as I was cleaning out my guest room and thought you deserved to at least read what she had written to you."

Ginny's head snapped up at the mention of the guest room and Cat knew she had her. "She was staying with you?" This was the moment she had come for. Santa Muerte pushed a little closer to the surface, ready for anything that might happen next.

Catalina nodded. "Chloe stayed with me for one night, but was dragged from my house in the middle of the night by some men who bore the same tattoos as your Roberto there." She held Ginny's gaze and was pleased to see her flinch. She could hear the  _Avenida_ behind her stiffening and listening to her story. "They destroyed the rooms my girls stay in, frightened my son, fired their weapons through my walls, and took your daughter. I don't know what role Santa Muerte played in the whole thing, but I know she has a score to settle with the gangs in El Sereno. If I had to guess, they killed your daughter and she killed them, based on what I saw last night." Cat saw that Ginny was unnerved. What she couldn't tell was if it was because the gang she was in bed with had gone after her daughter, or because there were witnesses to the hit.

To her credit, Chloe's mother spoke gently. "So you don't know who killed her." Ginny's face was nearly as blank as Catalina's.

"No, I, personally, was not there. But I have told you my suspicions. And I saw the events leading up to it." The blonde woman nodded, looking away from Cat's intense stare and turning toward the floor instead. She handed the letter to her husband, who read it over with a blank stare. For just a moment, they sincerely looked like grieving parents and Catalina genuinely hoped they were, that Ginny hadn't sent those men to her home.

"Thank you for bringing this letter to us." The father stood, appearing like he was ready to have this meeting over with. Cat stood as well, pushing her way out of the distasteful armchair and offering her hand as he had done at first. He took her hand, covering it with his other hand, and holding her violet gaze for a moment. "It really means so much to us to know about what happened to our beautiful daughter." His eyes misted and he released her hand, leaving the room.

Catalina turned toward Chloe's mother, intent on saying her farewell, only to meet an angry stare from a changed woman now that her husband was out of the room. "I suppose you're expecting some kind of payoff to keep from going to the police?"

Cat raised her brow, and Santa Muerte was restless, feeling as though she was going to get a fight out of this encounter after all. "Excuse me?"

"About  _Las Avenidas_ involvement in my daughter's death. I assume you're here because she told you about the meeting and you want some kind of payoff."

Catalina snickered, shaking her head at the ridiculous accusation. "Did Roberto or any of your other  _vatos_ tell you what I do?" Cat stepped a bit closer to the couch Ginny was lounging on.

The other woman waved dismissively. "Of course. You're some kind of pimp or something. I don't care."

Catalina smiled but the spirit in her mind bristled at the offense. She took yet another step closer to the couch and the woman sat a bit straighter. "I'm a madam. I protect and care for the girls in my house. I don't force them into anything, in fact I don't even care if they go into a different kind of work so long as they pay their rent. Point is, I'm not hurting for money. And I  _definitely_ don't want yours. But you even asking the question answers mine."

"Oh? And what question is that?"

"Whether or not you sent those men to kill your daughter."

Ginny shot off the couch and was only inches from Cat's face. " _How dare you?_ " she hissed. "I loved my daughter more than anything in this world and would never hurt her."

"So you sent your pets to do it for you, right? Because you couldn't have her knowing about your business dealings with  _Las Avenidas._ And, come to think of it, I know about your deal with the gang, which means you don't want me alive either," she paused, smiling sardonically at Ginny. "Feel free to stop me when I get something wrong."

"You sure are arrogant for an unarmed _chola_ who walked into a viper's nest." Roberto commented from behind her.

Cat cocked her head at him, turning to face him. "What makes you think I need to be armed? Didn't your boys tell you why they had to come back in the middle of the night after we were all asleep?" She raised a brow at him, glancing over at Ginny before once again fixing him with her amused glare. "No? Well it was because I bested them with my bare hands despite the three of them walking in armed to the teeth. I bruised their ego pretty bad, I imagine. Must be why they didn't mention it to anyone." The banger drew his weapon from the holster at his back and Cat  _tsk_ -ed at him, turning her back to him to face Ginny again. "This is the third time I've had a weapon drawn on me in twenty-four hours by your pets. Tell him to put it away, or I'm going to have to take it away from him."

Ginny glared at her and said nothing. Catalina sighed and moved quicker than they could react. Yet again, she had a  _vato_ on his knees with his arm twisted at an angle behind him, only this time with a gun to his head as well. 

Ginny's eyes were wide with shock. "What do you want from us?"

Catalina sighed again. "Really, I don't want anything. I was here to fulfill my promise to Chloe because she was clearly a better person than you could ever hope to be. But now, I'm thinking a little eye for an eye is in order too. Your men killed someone who was under my protection, destroyed my home and left it a questionable crime scene. I think I'll do the same for you." As she leaned down to Roberto, he struggled against her grip, but couldn't move without disjointing his shoulder.

"We'll hunt you. You will never be safe." Cat looked him dead in the eyes, so close she could practically taste his last cigarette, and let her eyes glow crimson.

"We'll see." He opened his mouth to respond but she drew back, her eyes violet again. Catalina smiled, knowing what she wanted them both to hear before she pulled the trigger.

"Chloe sends her love."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's wordy... I warned everyone... This one was never edited down, so I can't make any excuses. At least I read it over once, which is more than I usually do.

**Author's Note:**

> Much of this is unedited NaNoWriMo word vomit and is unnecessary detail..... I'll get around to cutting it down eventually... I hope you all don't mind....


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